The Bolero
by Keselyx Meeko Lyszerxon
Summary: It was just an average, dinnerless day at the office... Until the phone rang.


Keselyx: Hello! It's been far too long... So basically we did a Fanfiction unit in Creative writing (crazy, huh?) and this is my fic... 'cause lately I've been obsessed with Devil May Cry... (Part of the reason I haven't written anything new...) So here's the extra short story! (Pay attention!)

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_The Bolero_

"Uuuunnnnnnnghhh…" He yawned, cracking an eye open to peer across the empty office. No customers today, no profit today, which meant no dinner tonight. Again. His stomach responded with a growl as the thought of another day without food crossed his mind. His eye caught sight of the kit-cat clock on the opposite wall, its tail swinging back and forth, back and forth rhythmically; this rhythm that had hypnotized him into his previous little catnap. Before he could be entranced once more, the phone rang to interrupt the ticking melody. He quickly snapped it up before the ring could complete its final hum.

"This is Devil May Cry, what can _we_ do for _you_?" His combination of boredom and hunger gave his words a sarcastic tone as he recited his customary greeting and paused. His eyes narrowed as he listened to the receiver, "Yes, I understand." He nodded and hung up the phone. Within moments he had swept up his sword and exited out the rickety old door swinging out his expensive coat for the bright rays of the sun to glint off in just the right way.

It hadn't taken him long to find the site where the demons had been sighted. It was not too far from the shop, it was never too far from the shop—well not for him anyway. He began his causal stroll down the road, looking furtively down the nearby alleys. They were close, he could feel it. A chilly breeze kicked up the dust around his feet as well as their devilish scent. He paused. _There._ He turned to face the western alley, the darkness cloaking the alley in such an obscured depth that there appeared to be an imaginary purple wisp of energy snaking through the shaded cloud. It was imaginary. It was real. The tentacle like wisp stretched out beyond the alley, catching his eyes as it wriggled closer to his feet. Just as it became a foot in reach he sprang backwards, dodging the real assault of a spear sailing towards his head.

"You missed!" He pointed out considerately.

"DAAAAANNNNNNFFFFFEEEEEEEE!!" The ground echoed, insulted by the remark.

"That's my name, now don't you go wearing it out…" Dante warned, wagging his finger at the now revealed beast. It was a single giant mushroom, fifteen feet in height crawling with flagellic purple tentacles to encroach upon its victim. Beneath its red, white blotted dome were pail yellow points, jutting out, ready to be projected at the opponent at long-range.

"I've veard many vings abouf you, Danfe, but I vee demons fendency fo exarferafe is gained fou a wrong vepufation." The dome bobbed.

"Heh. Try sayin' fat again after I'm done wif fou." Dante mocked, unsheathing his sword. "Now, come on!" He beckoned, a cruel smile resting on his face.

The dome answered with a slam of its tentacle at Dante, but it was too slow. As Dante spun through the air, the demon bent backward, releasing a shower of spears.

"Too slow." Dante sighed at the peak of the harlequin dome, his coat blowing in the silent breeze, viciously punctured by the spears. He slashed his sword across the surface of the dome, black blood spurting out, covering his face and what remained of his coat as it swayed into the gusher with the wind. "Now to finish it." He stabbed straight downward so far that his sword was clearly three feet into the mushrooms stem. He sprang away onto the nearest rooftop as the demon exploded, bathing the street in black ink like syrup. "Now to collect the cash."

Dante dashed to the employer's residence to receive his payment, his boots sloshing, soaked in blood. As he entered the bar all eyes were on him, not for the usual reasons like his silver hair or impressive manner of holding himself, but for something else.

"Nice coat!" One of the patrons burst.

"Is that really a coat!?"

"I thought that was a rag!"

"It really accentuates your bosom!"

Dante suppressed a blush as he glanced down at his tattered coat. The whole bottom half had been shredded and torn such that it was completely absent. In fact, the only remaining pieces of the coat were that which made up his sleeves and what connected the sleeves across his back, giving him the appearance of wearing a black and red bolero.

A frown made its way onto his face as he studied his new fashion statement. He frowned not for the embarrassment caused by his rather feminine sweater—which did hug his bosom just right—but instead for the loss of his most favored coat. He looked away, his hair hiding his watering eyes as he approached the employer. "Hmph." He snatched the money from the employer and swept out into the twinkling twilight off to the nearest coat store. _Yum, the sweet taste of high fashion._

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Keselyx: I hope you enjoyed it! Oh! Pop quiz! What was the dramatic question set up at the beginning of the piece? And what was the answer?! Quick you have five seconds!


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